


In Pieces

by GraeWrites



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crying, Gen, Yelling, cursing, this is for the Sanders Bro AU that justisaisfine has on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 19:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16859812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraeWrites/pseuds/GraeWrites
Summary: Thomas may not have the whole picture, but he has enough of it. for justisaisfine’s Sanders Bro AU on Tumblr.





	In Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I love Isa’s Sanders Bro AU an abnormal amount, probably. So of course I had to write a fic for it because I have no chill. Credit for the AU and the entire basis for the fic is all to them. Please, please check out the AU on their blog because it is amazing. This fic certainly pales in comparison, but I hope it’s not too terrible. Heh. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but here it is regardless! Huge thanks to Isa for also answering my anon asks for clarification about a few things. Hope some of this isn’t too far off course. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Additionally, in all of the craziness that's happening on Tumblr, I wanted to make sure that I get my fics on here just in case the site snipes my fics. Heh. Hope you all don't mind too much, and sorry for the crazy amount of posting fics I'll be doing here soon.

“And cut!”

Roman grins brightly at Thomas—who has him shoved up against a brick wall with a prop knife to his throat—and the tension from the dramatic scene they’d just finished is suddenly cut (no pun intended) with one look. Thomas laughs and rolls his eyes, letting Roman shrug out of his grip.

“Good take, guys. Take a break,” the director calls out as she flips through notes.

Thomas hands the prop knife to one of the stage hands and thanks him with a sincere smile before following Roman to the snack table behind the assortment of cameras. The teen picks up a turkey club sandwich from the pile and shoves it unceremoniously into his mouth. Thomas picks up an apple. He doesn’t blame the kid, really; they’d been filming and rehearsing since six this morning without much time for a lunch break.

The constant movement on set is oddly comforting to Thomas. Stage hands hustle to get props and actors, the director is watching footage of the scene he had just filmed with Roman and talks about it in hushed voices with her producers. She casts a glance at Roman, and Thomas smiles. He knows that look. She’s impressed, and to be honest, Thomas is too. Roman is young—still a kid, really—but he’s got serious acting chops. It’s a wonder he didn’t break into the business sooner.

Thomas glances at the teen beside him and smiles faintly at the awed look in his eyes as he watches the action around him. They’re a few weeks into production on this movie, but Roman still looks like he can’t believe he’s actually here.

A few smaller kids for the orphanage scene—maybe five or six—chase each other around the set, shrieking in laughter. A few of the cast members seem vaguely annoyed at the added chaos, but Thomas doesn’t mind. They were quiet, talented, patient kids who knew to only wreak havoc between shots.

“Tag, you’re it!” a little girl shouts as she runs into a boy’s shoulder before sprinting away. The young boy—in his tattered clothes costume but his eyes bright and lively—spins around. His gaze seems to zero in on Roman, and the teen barely has time to react before the boy barrels right into his legs.

“Oof!” Roman says dramatically, doubling over—but not  _falling_  over, and Thomas is vaguely impressed by that—and capturing the boy his arms. “Argh, you cannot escape my grasp!”

“You’re it! You’re it! You’re it!” the boy yells, grinning as he tries to wriggle his way free.

“I’m  _it?_ ” Roman announces, playfully holding onto the kid, “Are you sure about that? I’ll have you know, I’m a three time champion in the art of playing tag.” He’s grinning, something warm and twinkling in his eyes.

“Nuh-uh!” The boy barrels out of Roman’s arms, and the Sanders teen lets him break right out of his grasp.

“You don’t believe me?” he says, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to prove it to you!” The boy shrieks with laughter as Roman chases after him.

Thomas crosses his arms over his chest and watches his coworker chase the kids around the set. A few people stop and watch the chaos unfold as well, but most people don’t mind too much. They’re between takes anyway, and he’s keeping the kids occupied in the very least. Thomas watches as one of them leaps up onto Roman’s back and feels his heart jump, but Roman only stumbles a step or two before hooking his arms underneath the kid’s legs in a piggy-back ride and running the kid around the set a few times.

“Roman! Thomas!” The director calls out. “We’re gonna need to do that scene again. I want to try some different camera work. Be ready in five.”

Roman looks over at the sound of his name and nods. He lowers the kid on his back to the ground, says something to him that Thomas doesn’t quite catch, and they both exchange a mock salute before Roman jogs back to the table.

“You’re so good with them,” a voice speaks up as Roman returns by the snack table. Thomas looks over his shoulder to see Valerie taking a cracker off the plate.

Roman smiles slightly and lifts a shoulder. “I have three younger brothers.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Valerie says, having seen Logan, Patton, and Virgil a couple of times over the past few weeks. “You’re all so cute. I bet your parents are so proud of you!”

Roman seems suddenly very interested in the cheese cubes on the table by the crackers. He picks one up and pops it in his mouth. “I gotta get back to set,” he says, in a voice that sounds just a little tight to Thomas.

“Oh,” Valerie says to Roman’s retreating form, her voice still bright and friendly, if a bit confused. “Of course! Good luck!”

…

“What do you mean you can’t make it tomorrow?” the producer says, his voice rising. It’s a month or so later. Thomas stops mid-sentence and looks over towards the noise. A young intern with short hair and big glasses seems to shirk away from the volume, and Thomas sighs.

“I mean, I’m sorry, it’s just….” The girl stammers, adjusting the frame of her glasses.

Most people around the set are keeping themselves busy, ignoring the exchange. The producer is known for his temper, after all, and few people paid attention when the interns were getting reamed out. A small number were trying not to stare at the exchange, and a few others appeared to not be listening but—when looked at closer—could be shown to be listening regardless. Across the set, Roman Sanders seems to have fallen into the latter of the group, staring a little too intently at the script in his hands.

“I gave you this break!” the producer shouts at her, his face red. “This is a real job, sweetheart, and you don’t get to just come and go as you please!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas sees Roman snap the script close and toss it onto the table in front of him. There’s something tight in his jaw, squared in his shoulders, something aged in his eyes… Even the producer looks taken aback when he realizes that Roman is walking towards  _him_.

“I think,” Roman says, in a calm and measured voice that Thomas wouldn’t have even been able to hear if it wasn’t dead silent on set, “that she can hear you plenty well when you speak normally, sir.”

The producer blinks in surprise—even Thomas feels a bit taken aback by the new actor’s courage—before spluttering an indignant reply. “This isn’t any of your business, boy.”

“Perhaps not,” Roman replies, his voice still remarkably cool and composed. It stands in stark contrast to the producer’s indignant shouting a moment ago.  “But it’s certainly hard to ignore when you’re screaming about it. Perhaps you should take a moment to calm down before discussing the matter further.”

Roman’s words seem to make the producer suddenly and startlingly aware of the people around them. At the sharp stare of the producer, most onlookers duck their heads and busy themselves with rehearsing lines, checking mics, finding their shoes suddenly  _fascinating_. Thomas quietly meets the producer’s gaze with a steady one of his own. He doesn’t know what his expression shows, but Roman is right, and Thomas is fully prepared to come to his defense if the producer tries anything.

The producer grumbles something in a low voice and storms off. Thomas watches as Roman seems to relax back into his usual warm persona. Regular chatter and the sounds Thomas had come to associate with the backstage-between-takes bustle of the movie business filter back up. Roman flashes a smile at the intern, and Thomas reads his lips as he asks, “You okay?”

The young girl nods, smiling faintly back. The girl, by Thomas’s best guess, is probably around sixteen or seventeen, making Roman only a year or so older than her. But there’s a brief moment where Thomas can’t help but feel like Roman looks so much older for his age. A weariness and weight in his eyes, visible even across the room but only for a fraction of a second.

And then the bright, flamboyant, excitable kid is back as he laughs at something she says and responds easily. He shakes her hand, inclines his head, and then walks back to pick up his script and goes right back to rehearsing.

…

“Action!” the director calls a week later.

Thomas slips into character effortlessly, his hands fisting at his sides as he marches up to Roman and grabbing his shoulder. The fight is choreographed flawlessly—the coordinators were impeccable, honestly—and both Thomas and Roman had been working on this exact scene for weeks.

“What the—“ Roman says, delivering his line with just the right amount of surprise, eyes widening and ducking Thomas’s flying fist just in time. Thomas stumbles in just the right way, and Roman throws up his hands as if to protect his face. “Calm down!”

“Calm down?” Thomas snarls. “You nearly got us killed out there!”

Roman shifts his weight as Thomas delivers his line and is ready when the older actor barrels into him, sending him careening back into the ladder on set. It breaks away and collapses on top of him. Roman lets out a frustrated huff before scrambling to his feet.

“That wasn’t me! Would you just—“ he ducks another of Thomas’s punches, throwing an elbow in retaliation.

“Cut!” the director calls out, a slight note of annoyance. Thomas sees confusion and a bit of self-doubt flicker through Roman’s eyes, but Thomas is confused too. It was a good take. Or at least, it had felt good to Thomas.

“Sorry, guys,” the director sighs. “You were great. Our mic levels are off. Can we get a sound check? You guys take a break.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas sees a relieved smile flicker across Roman’s face.

“Nice job,” Thomas tells him sincerely. “That would’ve been a good take if the mics had been working.”

Roman laughs. The two of them make their way over a few yards across the warehouse behind the cameras.

Roman’s three brothers sit near a stack of shipping cargo. Logan—sixteen, Thomas remembers—is sitting with his back against the cargo and a textbook propped open in his lap. Patton is talking quietly but excitedly with Valerie. And Virgil (Thomas still wasn’t sure he entirely believed that he is eight years old, given just how small he is) is sitting beside Logan, so close their arms are brushing. He has some kind of homework worksheet on the cement floor in front of him, but his eyes are glued to something in the textbook in Logan’s lap.

“Hey guys,” Roman greets warmly. “How are we doing over here?”

“Satisfactory,” Logan replies, his eyes lingering on the textbook page before flickering up to meet his older brother’s.

“Good!” Patton chimes in. “Valerie and I were comparing favorite Disney songs. She has good taste.”

Valerie laughs. “Why thank you, Patton. So do you.”

Roman smiles at the exchange. “Good to hear.” With a dramatic groan, Roman takes a seat on the floor beside Virgil. “What about you, Virge? Doing okay?” Thomas notices—not for the first time—how his voice seems a little softer when he asks Virgil.

The youngest brother nods.

Roman arcs an eyebrow. Thomas sees him exchange a glance with Logan over Virgil’s head. Thomas can’t decipher the unspoken conversation they seem to have, but whatever is exchanged seems to relax Roman a bit. The teen leans back a bit into the boxes behind them.

“Hey, Thomas,” Patton says suddenly. “What’s your favorite Disney movie?”

The question surprises the actor. “Favorite Disney movie… hm…” Thomas sucks in a breath through his teeth and rubs the back of his neck. “That’s a hard question. If I have to choose  _one_ , I suppose Aladdin.”

Patton nods thoughtfully. “That’s a good choice.”

“It was awesome talking to you, Patton, but I gotta go to makeup. You’ll have to teach me the words to ‘Almost There’ one of these days, though.” She smiles as Patton promises to do so, then hurries off. The five of them lapse into a comfortable silence for a moment before Roman breaks it.

“Thomas and I are about to shoot that scene you guys saw us walk through a few weeks back,” he supplies conversationally.

Thomas’s lips quirk into a smile at the memory. One of the days Roman had brought his brothers along a few weeks back, he and Roman had done a dry run through of the fight scene. Both Patton and Virgil had been about ready to tackle Thomas in defense of their brother—or more accurately, to ensure he didn’t get injured. He and Roman had then proceeded to go through the fight blow by blow in slow motion to show them how the fight wouldn’t actually hurt Roman at all.

“Yep,” Thomas adds. “You guys can watch your brother beat me up today, if you want.”

Roman snorts. “Something like that.”

“Thomas,” one of the actors—Terrence—calls from a few feet away, waving a book of papers, “Is this your script?”

Thomas jogs over and snatches it back, thanking him before heading back over to the brothers.

Logan has turned the page of his textbook—it’s a science textbook, Thomas can see now—and points something out to Virgil who is still looking at it over his older brother’s shoulder. Roman also seems interested in whatever Logan is saying quietly to his brothers. Patton raises his eyebrows, then shifts to sit across from Logan, who tilts his textbook towards his younger brother and points to a picture of a nebulous star.

Logan, who had always seemed to Thomas to be very quiet, is explaining something to his three brothers and Thomas has the odd feeling that if he were to try to listen in, he may be intruding. It wasn’t that the four of them were cold—to the contrary, they were some of the warmest and kindest kids Thomas had ever met—but they had a certain close-knit aura around them that Thomas felt was different than other families. Certainly different from his own.

“Hey! Thomas! Roman!” one of the cast-mates calls, jogging over. Logan stops talking, glancing up at the new face. “Are you guys coming to Marco’s after filming wraps today?”

Thomas thinks about it, but Roman’s response comes immediately. “Sorry, Alex. I can’t.” The answer hardly surprises Thomas—he’s not sure he’s ever heard the teen accept an invitation to do something after filming.

“I’ll think about it,” Thomas replies.

Alex opens his mouth to say something, looking vaguely disappointed, but the director’s voice cuts through the air.

“Thomas! Roman! You guys are back on. Same scene from the top. Sorry for the delay.”

…

Months pass, and Thomas can’t help but see the patterns.

Roman having this way of quickly shutting people down who yell during an argument, the way he never accepts invitations to do things after filming, how quickly he deflects any mention of his parents being proud of him… at first, Thomas had written the latter off as humility, but there was always something forced behind the smile and indifference that didn’t quite sit well in the older actor’s stomach. There was also something about the way Roman and his brothers interacted with one another that Thomas didn’t quite understand—quiet, tight-knit, and protective.

Thomas doesn’t really know what it all means. Or even  _if_  it means anything. He could be reading into things more than they really warranted. Right?

Right.

Thomas pops a grape into his mouth and wanders over to stand beside Roman, watching the scene being filmed from behind the camera. He and Roman just wrapped on a scene and were scheduled to be next anyway, so both of them had elected to linger around and watch the next scene get shot.

It’s one the of the flashback scenes for Thomas’s character, evidenced by the set being the kitchen of a home rather than a warzone. The actor playing younger Thomas—around ten years old—does bear a striking resemblance to 26 year-old. The only other person in the scene is the actress playing the mother.

“ _Don’t you ever stop talking?!”_  the mother demands, the fury looking real and tangible in her eyes. Thomas has to admit—the actress playing the mother was exceptional at her job. Thomas had filmed another movie with her before, and she was a really sweet lady in real life.

The kid, also, is quite good. “ _I’m sorry, I just… I wanted_ …” he stammers, stumbling back.

Before Thomas can even blink, the mother hits her son across the face with the back of her hand. Beside him, Thomas sees Roman visibly flinch. When he glances at him out of the corner of his eye, he notices Roman is looking very pointedly at his shoes.

“ _What did I just say, kid?”_  the mother growls. “ _God, you never shut the fuck up!”_

Roman seems to be standing suddenly very still. Concerned, Thomas looks at him more fully, but Roman won’t meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest, and there’s something about the way his shoulders are hunched ever so slightly that makes Thomas suddenly and acutely aware that this kid beside him is a  _kid_. And somehow, he looks and acts much older than that.

Something clicks. His brothers and their relationship with one another, the way Roman always deflected questions and comments about his parents, the way he didn’t tolerate yelling and never went out after filming, the way he flinched just now…

Thomas doesn’t have the full picture, but it’s all in a hazy focus that is  _just enough_. Whatever Roman is dealing with, Thomas can’t help but feel like it’s something much bigger and much worse than any kid his age should have to handle. It’s not something someone his age should have to shoulder.

At least not alone.

“Cut!” The director yells a moment later. “Great take. I wanna run that one more time, then we’ll move on. Take a break, though.”

It’s, apparently, all the encouragement Roman needs. Because the young actor turns without saying a word to Thomas and walks off the set. Thomas follows after him.

…

Thomas hesitates for a moment outside Roman’s trailer, his breath making small clouds in front of his face in the brisk late autumn air. He remembers the look of pure disbelief, quickly overshadowed by excitement, when Roman had learned he’d be getting his own trailer for the movie. Thomas hadn’t even thought much about it—Roman had a number of costume changes, plus a not in-substantial role that necessitated long days of filming—but seeing Roman’s vaguely awed look had reminded him of himself when he’d gotten his first big role in a movie. He’d been just a little older than Roman at the time.

Thomas knocks softly on the door. “Roman?”

There’s a brief pause, then a hurried and slightly muffled, “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I’ll be right there.”

“We have a while,” Thomas replies, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “But I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Another pause, then the door swings open. Roman looks more composed than he had just a moment ago, his face now one of confusion and perhaps a bit of nervousness. “Of course. What’s up?” He shifts to the side, giving Thomas room as he steps up into the trailer.

The trailer is messy and generic; very little of  _Roman_  expressed in the small space. There’s a blanket on the couch that was provided when the temperature had started to drop. Some discarded shoes on the floor. Roman’s normal clothes tossed over a plastic chair in the corner. Roman shifts past him and rubs the back of his head before taking a seat on the far end of the couch.

“Roman…” Thomas begins, feeling suddenly unsure of where to start but knowing that he has to say  _something_. He looks at the teen sitting in front of him and sighs. “Are you okay?”

Roman throws him a brilliant smile. “Of course, Thomas. Just, uh…” The smile falters for only a fraction of a second, then stays in place. He lifts a shoulder. “Y’know.”

Thomas gives him a soft, knowing look. “I don’t, actually. Not really.” He takes a seat on the couch beside him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “And that’s okay. I don’t want you to tell me anything you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for. But…” Thomas holds Roman’s wide stare. “But I’ve got your back. And I’ve got your brothers’ backs.”

Roman is shaking his head, words tumbling out of his mouth even as his eyes start to shine. “ _Thomas_ —“ Roman says, and Thomas pretends he doesn’t hear the way his voice cracks just a little.

“I mean it,” Thomas says, with as much sincerity and earnestness as he can because he needs Roman to know it and believe it. “Any of you need anything—anything at all—you have my number. I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”

Roman opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it. He scrubs a hand across his eyes and sniffles. “Okay,” he says, in a soft, choked voice. He coughs to clear it. “I… thank you.”

Thomas gives him a small smile. “Any time. I mean that.”

Roman releases a watery laugh. “Yeah, I know you do.”

Thomas thinks of Roman’s bright energy and aged eyes. Of the quiet way Logan always seems to have words pressing against his lips but for some reason, holds them back more than he speaks. Or the way Patton’s warm smile and sincere curiosity makes every person feel  _seen_ , even though Patton is so much younger. Or how Virgil looks at his brothers like he’d move mountains just for them.

“Good,” Thomas replies softly. “Because you guys are a good group of kids.”


End file.
